


not your fault

by phillipAsoo



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Brotherly Love, Comfort, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s01e22 The Last Crash of the Sunchaser!, Fluff and Angst, Self-Hatred, just btw theyre only mentioned like twice but my dewey is nb!! so they is just referring to dew uwu, ohohohohohohohohoh im back, poor Huey, takes place after, this is kinda bad!!! but its the first fic ive written in SO LONG!!!! so!!!!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:08:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25617124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phillipAsoo/pseuds/phillipAsoo
Summary: Huey lay under his covers on his back on the top bunk of the kids’ triple bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling. He wasn’t going to sleep -- he wouldn’t even try. It would be useless. The sick feeling in his stomach would keep him awake.He was upset and confused and angry. Angry at Scrooge, angry at Della, hismother, who was never supposed to leave her children for a joyride through space.Angry at himself. Mostly angry at himself.(short fic taking place after last crash!)
Relationships: Huey Duck & Louie Duck
Comments: 12
Kudos: 108





	not your fault

**Author's Note:**

> this is the first fic ive posted in!! MONTHS!! so hi owo

Huey lay under his covers on his back on the top bunk of the kids’ triple bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling. He wasn’t going to sleep -- he wouldn’t even try. It would be useless. The sick feeling in his stomach would keep him awake.

He was upset and confused and angry. Angry at Scrooge, angry at Della, his _mother_ , who was never supposed to leave her children for a joyride through space. 

Angry at himself. Mostly angry at himself.

He knew it wasn’t logical. He wasn’t the one who built the rocket that launched their mother into space to die. 

But he was mad at himself. Furious. He wanted to tear at his skin, crumble himself up like a piece of paper, rip and scratch and slash at himself until he was nothing. A torn piece of lined paper in the trashcan in the corner or the room. He wanted to scream. 

Huey was the oldest triplet. His siblings needed him. His _family_ needed him. They needed him to fix this mess, and he couldn’t.

He couldn’t.

He was _useless_. What was he good for? What was he if he couldn’t patch this family back together?

He’d always been useless, but he covered the fact up with his Junior Woodchuck trivia and his intellectual curiosity. It didn’t ever do anyone any good. Why did it take him so long to realize?

Huey blinked at the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to the ceiling, slightly too close to the top bunk. He’d put them there. He’d always loved astrology. 

The stars. They had a new meaning now. 

His mother had wanted to give her children the stars. Well, she didn’t. She died instead.

He wouldn’t have deserved them anyway.

Gut twisting, Huey reached up and tore one of the big stars off the ceiling. It made a small ripping noise.

Then he heard a sound from below. Huey froze. Waited. 

A small sniff. 

Huey’s heart dropped to his stomach.

Louie was crying. Louie was crying. Louie was crying, and Huey moved to climb down the ladder, an instinct, because his baby brother was crying and needed him and --

And then he stopped. 

Louie had avoided everyone all night, from the moment they got back to the houseboat. He didn’t want anyone's physical affection. Not even from Uncle Donald. This had clearly concerned Huey, and Dewey too -- though they were too angry at Scrooge to try to keep their focus on anything -- because Louie always needed comfort when he was upset like this. Huey was used to being there, to making it better.

Louie didn’t want him tonight. It didn’t matter, anyway. He couldn’t make it better. He never really had.

So Huey placed his head back on his worn pillow, so different to the plush one he had grown accustomed to in the mansion, and listened in agony as Louie cried softly below him. His sobs were getting louder, meaning Louie was so lost, so upset, he had given up trying to silence his muffled cries so as not to wake his siblings. It broke Huey’s heart even further. Louie was hurting, and for the first time ever, Huey didn’t know what to do. 

He ached to hold him, wipe the tears off his cheeks, kiss his forehead, sing a lullaby. But he couldn’t, because Louie wouldn’t have him, because Huey had failed the family. 

He wanted to scream.

He reached up and tore off another star. Louie hiccuped and continued to cry. This was the soundtrack to his life. Huey hurt. He was in so much pain. He wished he could disappear.

Suddenly, as Huey went to rip off a third glowing sticker, Louie’s sobbing stopped. Huey waited in anticipation, listening. He needed to know Louie was okay.

The sound of blankets being shoved back, of Louie climbing up the ladder, and then he was there, at the foot of Huey’s bed.

Huey sat up and stared at his baby brother. Louie’s face was red and puffy, and his cheeks were glistening with tears. Huey wanted to cry himself, from the ache in his chest and from relief that Louie had come to him simultaneously.

He smiled weakly and pulled back a corner of the duvet. Louie immediately crawled over and underneath. He cuddled close next to Huey, who wrapped his arms around the crying triplet easily. 

Huey started rubbing his back lightly, and Louie began to sob again into Huey’s nightshirt.

“I love you,” Louie choked out, speaking into Huey’s chest. Huey froze, but he could feel his heart beating rapidly. 

Louie must have felt it. He looked up at Huey with watery, puffy eyes.

Huey swallowed. He’d probably be crying too, if he had the energy. “Why?”

Louie sniffed and continued to study Huey’s face. “What?” he said softly.

Huey opened his mouth to reply, though he didn’t know what he would say, but was silenced when Louie reached up and placed his hands on either side of Huey’s face. Sudden recognition was written in his expression.

“Nope,” Louie said. His voice was thick from crying. “No. Stop.”

Huey readied himself to reply with “stop what?” but Louie moved one finger over his mouth before he could. Huey almost laughed. It was such a charismatic Louie thing to do, even when he was in tears because his brother had failed to save their wrecked family.

He’d failed. Why was Louie even up here?

“I know what you’re thinking,” Louie whispered, shining eyes poring into Huey’s own, “and you need to stop.” He removed his finger from Huey’s mouth to wipe his cheek with his sleeve, and then placed his hand back on Huey’s other cheek.

“This isn’t your fault. It’s not your fault we’re leaving, or that Dewey’s more mad at Scrooge than they’ve ever been, or that Mom is gone and she’s not coming back.” He took a shuddering breath. Huey stared at him, wide-eyed. “It’s not your fault. No one expects you to solve this. So shut up, Huey’s brain. Shut up, shut up, shut up.”

Huey let that sink in. He opened his mouth, but Louie interrupted him again with, “shut up.”

Huey laughed weakly at that. “You won’t let me speak at all?” he whispered, voice shaky.

“Not if you’re gonna be stupid,” Louie replied softly. He sniffed again and wiped his eyes.

Huey watched him and reached over and grabbed Louie’s hand so he could dry his face for him. Then he swept Louie’s curls off his forehead and ran his fingers through them, like he always did. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be taking care of you,” Huey said, frowning. 

Louie leaned into his brother’s touch and closed his eyes, snuggling further underneath the blankets. “I love you,” he said again.

“I love you too.”

“It’s not your fault.”

Huey watched Louie’s face while his eyes were shut. He knew Huey too well, and Huey was so, so grateful.

Huey wrapped his arms around Louie and pulled him into a soft hug. Louie immediately fit into his arms, face dug into Huey’s shoulder.

“Thank you,” they whispered at the same time. They both giggled.

Louie went quiet in Huey’s arms and Huey remembered that he was the older sibling, and that Louie was in pain, and that he _did_ need him after all. He’d been crying to himself not ten minutes ago and had come up here for Huey’s comfort, and had ended up comforting Huey instead. 

“It’s going to be okay,” Huey whispered into Louie’s curls. “It’s gonna work out. We’ll be okay, no matter what happens.”

Louie stilled. Paused. 

“You promise?” he said, in a voice so small Huey barely caught it.

“I promise.”

Louie relaxed in Huey’s arms again. Huey tightened the embrace. 

He could do one thing right. An important thing. Maybe this new family divide wasn’t something he could fix, but he could hold Louie close so he wasn’t alone in hurting and sing to him until he fell peacefully asleep, and that was enough. It was very much enough.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! :) come say hi to me on tumblr! @louyd


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